Then It's A Deal?
by TF Freak Out
Summary: What will you risk to end the war for good? Would you make a deal with the devil? Will it be worth it in the end?
1. Chapter 1

Night was a dangerous time for Cybertron. The metallic planet shimmered slightly in the night. The towers of the city seemed to glisten while their insides remained silent and empty. Even the streets were abandoned, as their worn pavements only now a days carried rust. The war had claimed this town.

Yet a naive red and orange bot stumbled around in the dark. His bulk arms stiff yet swayed back and forth as his heavy peds dragged across the ground. The alleyway was only as empty as everything else in this ghost city. In his hand was a cube of energon, nearly empty. He marched onward with a stiff stance as though his drink had yet to effect him. His face was twisted with anger. An anger that boiled deep within him.

"Stupid Prime," he grumbled, "you make a new record and all he does is place ya on the sidelines. Who cares! They're Decepticons!"

He flung his empty cube to the side. Hitting the ground, it's pieces scattered across the ground. Each one caught in the light of the night. It was then the bot stopped in his tracks to see there was someone reflecting off the shards of his cube. He looked to his left to see a red, blue, and white figure step into the light. Their optics were glowing red. Meaning only one thing.

"Starscream," he groaned.

"Well look who it is," the stranger said, "an Autobot drunk enough to find themselves in the ruins of Cyber City."

The bot stood strong and positioned himself for a fight. "I'm not that drunk if I can puff out your spark in one minute."

"No doubt in that. You have been a bot under Megatron's radar for quite sometime," said the seeker. He circled him around for a moment looking at his physic. "Even I must admit I am impressed with your talents."

"If your trying to flatter me, I'll pass," said the bot.

"Nothing of the sort. I merely wish to chat. After all, I could learn a lot from Optimus Prime's favorite soldier."

The bot lowered his guard as he heard his statement and scoffed. "Favorite soldier? Don't kid yourself. He hates my guts."

Starscream gasps in a playful shock. "No. I don't believe you."

"He placed me in probation. I'm not going back on the front lines anytime soon."

"That doesn't sound like the Prime at all. Though, I can see why."

The bot stared at him for a moment. "What are ya getting at?"

Starscream smirked and turned his back to him. "I'm sure plenty of bots would be envious of what you can accomplish. Armies fall to you when you come. Generals fear you. Why, if you were in charge, you could destroy the Decepticons in one hour."

Such a thought got the bot prideful. "Please," he said, "give me thirty minutes and I'll snuff out Megatron's spark."

"Would you bet on it?"

"Like, what, currency?"

"More like a small competition," said the seeker, "if you can get one scar to land on Megatron, then I can promise you anything you desire. Decepticon plots, inside info, energon mine locations. Name it, and it's yours."

It took a minute for the bot to become interested. Such rewards could change the tide of the war. Cybertron could begin to heal. Only one question prevented him from accepting this offer.

"What if I lose?"

Starscream placed his hand on his spark. "How about, you become my puppet for a day."

Seekers were the tricky type. And Staracream was the best of the best. Even then, the bot knew that he could always back out before things got sketchy.

He turned to the seeker smiled. "Let's make it fun. The moment I kill my first victim, the timer starts. Within thirty minutes I'll land a scar right on Megatron's chest over his spark. And trust me when I say I'll be on the battle field."

"Then it's a deal?" The seeker held out his hand in a welcoming style. His smile was sly, his eyes were determined.

Yet this did not phase the bot. He firmly shook his hand. "Just keep your optics out for Ticker. Cause I'm coming for your boss."

Ticker then transformed into his vehical mode - which was a small car - and drove back to the base. Leaving the seeker alone in the alley. He was going to have a field day tomorrow.

* * *

Cybertron was a large planet. So there were a lot of spots declared as warzones during the time of the war. The Sea of Rust was the spot the Decepticons and Autobots decided to have their battle today. Both sides were at each others throats. Guns blazing and blades slicing. It was chaos.

Megatron was on the front lines of this battle. He would fire his arm cannon and swing his spike ball and chain while he cried out in victory for every kill. Starscream was at his side when he needed to transform into his gun mode. But the battle rarely called for it. Considering who was waiting for him on the other side.

Optimus Prime was with a small team of his own behind a boulder. Along side him was Cliffjumper, Ironhide, Arcee, Windblade, and Ticker. Each prepped and ready for battle.

"It seems that we have an oppertunity," Prime said, "Megatron is distracted and his armies are dwindling. If we can push him back just a little more, we can win this battle."

Cliffjumper held up a sniper riffle with a disappointed face. "Why not just shoot the guy? He's been stuck at the center this entire time."

He wasn't entirely wrong. Megatron had been keeping his ground at the middle of the confusion. Like he was cornered. It would be a perfect time to kill him right there and then.

"Not to doubt your abilities," said Ironhide, "but there are far too many soldiers out there. One misfire and you could hit one of our guys."

"What if I elevate him higher to get a clear shot," commented Windblade.

"You will be spotted immediately," said Prime, "what we need is to formulate a concentrated attack."

Ticker held up a grenade, looking at the battlefield. "Just give me a moment, and I can have him blasted apart."

"No," Prime replied, "as said before, you will be remaining on the sidelines unless we need back up. I do not believe you are ready yet."

The bot walked up front to Optimus with a scowl. "You said this our chance, Prime. We need take Megatron down. This could be our only chance!"

"Perhaps, but not the way you suggest. We must remember the differences between us and them."

"I'll give ya differences." Ticker walked past his friends and charged into battle. He pulled out a pistol and began to shoot. One down. Two down. Five down. It was getting easier by the kill. The bot ignored Windblade calling him back as he pressed forward. Even planting bombs while he headed towars the target.

This is it. He had thirty minutes. If he could get a scar on him, he could turn the tides of this war. Finally, he could be seen as the hero he saw in himself. Ten down. Twelve. Sixteen. Naturally. Closer and closer he got, he knew this would be a piece of cake.

That was, until someone got in his way. A seeker landed right in front of him. This one was instead purple and black. Ticker knew this one as well. Skywarp.

"Planning on taking out the boss," the seeker asked, "Gonna have to go through me."

This wasn't much of a problem. He may not have fought him, but he was certain this wasn't a problem. he had twenty-three minutes left. There was plenty of time. With that, he pulled out a few grenades in hand.

"Fine by me," Ticker replied.

He charged Skywarp head on. Weilding a bomb ready to explode. Ticker expected the bot to move out of the way when he began rushing to him. However, this was not the case. Instead, Skywarp confidently held out his hand as if he were to be signalling him to stop. The moment he got in front of the bot, the hand touched his head. A flash of purple happened and Ticker had slipped passed the seeker.

He took a look at himself to make sure there was no damage. Nothing. He turned around and chucked his first bomb. The seeker was standing there while the explosive flew over to him. One kaboom later and he was no longer there. Score eighteen for Ticker. Making him turn towards Megatron.

But something felt off. Ticker was sure the warlord was within reach. Yet now he seemed farther than he was. "Did he get pushed back?"

"Nope, you did."

Appearing behind him was the same seeker that he blew up. But how. Suddenly he disappeared. Only to reappear in front of him. Skywarp could teleport. He never knew he was a teleporter. To Ticker, this was news. It didn't matter. He had eighteen minutes left. He could still make it.

Once more rushing into battle, the bot would make progress. Only for Skywarp to push him more and more. Grenade after grenade. Explosion after explosion. Time ticked by as the two fought. Fifteen minutes. Ten minutes.

The two would land hits on each other. But time was now running low, and he had to get closer. Resorting to his sticky grenade, he slapped it on the seeker and dashed for it. Not looking back as he heard the explosion behind him.

"Seven minutes," he said. As he passed through, more Decepticons fell to him. Twenty down. Twenty-six. Thirty-one. Like flies they all fell. Ticker grew closer and closer.

Five minutes.

He was lashing out at any bots that got in his way. No one was able to stop him. His focus was only on one.

Three minutes.

Just a scar. One deep cut. One injury to confirm that info. He had to do it. If he was to prove Prime wrong, that he could be one of the greats. He was a soldier. A war hero.

One minute.

Megatron was within a few feet of him. Ticker was prepared. He pulled out his biggest grenade, and reloaded once more. This was it, he was prepared. One hit and he would run for the hills. He jumped in the air, throwing his explosive. His large grin painted his face. He won. The bet was his. That was, until he optics glitched.

**_You lose._**

That was all he could see. His vision was blinded by the red text. Looking around, he saw his grenade still flying in the air. Was he a few seconds off? More so, where was this text coming from. Then suddenly his body felt numb. As he fell to the ground, he flopped and slumped on the floor. He couldn't move, he couldn't talk. What was happening? Appearing in front of him was Skywarp. Once more confidently smiling at him.

"Let's take you somewhere more private," he said.

Ticker then felt his optics go out.

* * *

Darkness had consumed him. All he knew was his spark was still there. Beating inside of a cold steal container of a body. He was unsure how long he was like this, nor if anyone was there with him. Was there something he could do? Was there anymore options for him?

Suddenly his optics onlined. At first colors glitched together and slowely seperated. Then they focused and gave a clear image of what was happening around him. Ticker was inside a run down apartment, a high class one at that. It was by now night time and all that illuminated the room was a small light in the hall. Not to mention the stars shining through the large windows. But the most shocking factor was when his hearing finally kicked in.

" . . . not that I'm suggesting we should."

"And yet, you are."

"So? You judging?"

The voices were barely recognizable. But he could tell they weren't exactly friendly. He was unable to move his head or even reposition himself to get a good look at his captors. They rambled and rambled on as if they had the time of day. It was then another bot entered. This one he could recognize clearly.

"You could have messaged me before it got dark, Thundercracker!"

Starscream.

"Your complaining about my delivery time," said one of the other bots, "cause I'm sure night time was the best time to do this."

"There were pleanty of perfect oppertunities in the day to do this," Starscream shouted, "the terms were 'a day' and I am sure we only have so long to test this!"

"Well, he's still here," said the third bot, whom after listening closely could be identified as Skywarp, "limp and lifeless."

"Let's hope he has a spark at least," Starscream said.

Ticker was unable to feel anything, which made his head spin when his body was turned over onto his back. The three seekers in front of him examined his body as if they were grave robbers. Starscream and Skywarp were bots he had met, but Thundercracker was new to him. This one as well shared the same model as the other two but was instead grey and blue. He was known to be a noble fighter, but was more serious and less expressive than the other two. Ticker then felt his spark was exposed for a moment as the seekers opened his chamber.

"There," said Thundercracker, "his spark is still intact."

"Looks like we can then count the mark to be confirmation of a living spark," Starscream said.

"So what about the terms," asked Skywarp, "can you really use him?"

"Let's test that."

Starscream sounded very eager with that last statement. Ticker noticed at the corner of his sight that the seeker lifted his hand above him. On the palm of his hand was a glowing symbol that looked strange. It was a circle that held an eye inside. With four spikes that decorated the otskirts of the circle. Then he felt his body stiffen as his body twitched. Was he able to move? No, this wasn't him. This was someone else. His body was moving on it's own. It stood up and slumped like a ragdoll, giving Ticker a better look at the seekers.

"Oh, yes," Starscream said with a gleeful grin, "I'm all for this! Check this out!"

From left to right, the limp body flew around the room as if he were a plane. Crashing into objects and walls. Even was thrown into a window. Ticker was very afraid of what was going on. This had to be fake, a dream.

"Ooh! Make him dance! Do the robot," pestered Skywarp.

"Okay then," said Starcsream.

Ticker was repositioned in front of them once more. He did his best to resist, but he couldn't.

"Now, I'm going to try a verbal command," the lead seeker said, "do your best victory dance."

Without even Starscream twitching his hand, the bot danced uncontrollably. His arms flailed and waved around while his peds were coordinating with each other to a non existant beat. The two out of three seekers laughed at his humiliation as if they were a crowd watching a clown. Ticker wasn't sure what was going on. Magic? Hacking? What did they do to him?! He wanted out! He wanted out of this crazy nightmare!

Thundercracker then coughed. "Shouldn't we use him for something more helpful than entertainment?"

"Aw, come on, TC," said Skywarp. "just let us enjoy this a bit longer!"

"Though I have to admit," Starcsream interjected, still trying to recover from his laughter, "He is right. A day is pretty short, so we better use him properly." The seeker flicked his hand and drew the Autobot closer to him. "And I have the perfect idea for this little puppet. So listen close, Ticker. Here's what your going to do."

* * *

Ironhide walked down the hall silently. His mind was trailing off with what the previous meeting was about. While this battle was a victory, there were a good deal of loses that day. He wasn't sure how they were going to advance after this. Prime was extremely insecure about his next steps and dedecided that they would lay low until a better oppertunity would come about. Such was the way of war.

He then noticed that someone else was walking towards him. Windblade was exiting from another room and was looking towards the ground, deep in thought. She was struggling. Guess it was time for a talk.

"Windblade," Ironhide called, "you wanna go for a round in the practice course?"

She looked up at her friend and smiled weakly, "I think I'm good. I have the next watch."

The bot wasn't taking this as a no. "In that case, I'll tag along," he said, "maybe a little company will take your mind off things."

Windblade placed a hand on her forhead and giggled. "Prowl's right, I am easy to read."

The two stood outside the door of the base. It was one out of five hidden bases on Cybertron. With the Decepticons claiming more than half of the planet as their own, they had to be careful about how they placed their hideouts. It was their only advatage to the war. Ironhide pulled out a shotgun as he looked at his friend.

"I'm sorry," Windblade said, "I was asking Prime if I could go for another round of searching before the night's end."

"Ticker will be fine," Ironhide replied, "he's tough. We'll get the oppertunity to get him back."

"What if we're too late. What if we're just wasting time. We've already lost so much."

"You act like he's gone already. There's still hope."

"Maybe," Windblade sighed.

The two had known Ticker for a while now. He was one of the few survivors if a city bombing when the war was still newly awakening. It was one of the reasons why he was so focused on taking out the Decepticons. Optimus thought this was a dangerous thinking for him and therefore did his best to properly teach him how to fight. But that didn't heal old wounds. It merely fed his violent tendencies.

The moon was lowering as it seemed like the night was passing fast. The bots were waiting for their next replacements until something caught their optics. A figure was walking towards them. It was someone they at first couldn't recognize. Then a light gave them a hint. It was an Autobot.

"Ticker!" Windblade recognized the red mecmech as he stumbled closer and closer. She wasted no time as she rushed towards him. Ironhide followed her as he focused on his old friend returning.

But there was something off about him. Something they knew was unlike him. Ticker was walking in a strange fashion that seemed unlike him. Like was drunk, but more unsettling and ominous. Not to mention his silhoette seemed off. At first glance, he seemed to have a strap of his usually grenades on him. Instead though, his bombs were not casually strapped on. They were fused onto him. The outer shells were welded onto his outer plating.

"Windblade, wait!" Ironhide pulled out his shotgun and pointed at the walking bomb. His aim was precise to avoid the explosives and hit his spark. It was a test of bravery for him to prevent his servos from shaking.

As for Windblade, she haulted the moment she noticed the bombs. With her being so close, she notice his stare was empty and his expression was dead. Ticker held out a button. One that was recognized as his personal trigger. He was rigged to blow.

"Ticker," Windblade said with a concerned tone.

All that came out of the bot was a glitched and broken voice. Full of static and hollow of any emotion.

**"A/l h iL M3gatr0n."**

A pull of a trigger and a push of a button. Windblade blacked out, but her cause was unknown.

* * *

**Welp, this was it. My first fic. I'm no proffesional, so hopefully you liked it. I did plan to have a multi chapter series with this idea, but I only had time to make this short one. Though if an oppertunity comes my way to make more of this, I will! Comment below if you are curious. Anyways, no promises for now, but maybe. See ya!**

**_I don't own Transformers! I own this story and Ticker!_**


	2. Updating

Okay, just to update ya guys, I am no expert at what I do. I like writing, but i know little about how to opperate this site/app. So to let you know, here are a few points.

1)This story was like a trailer to Deal Breaker. That is the official story that I have started. It is seperate, so check my stories to read it. Don't worry, this is a part of the story, and you will hear more of Ticker later on.

2) I am planning to get this story done! I know there may not be a lot now, but I just need sometime to write it. By the time you read this, I hope second chapter will be done.

3) Please be grammer natzi's for me! I do this to improve and practice writting skills to become an author. So if I mess something up, I'll take that.

4) If you guys get a lot of people to read this first story, then I might post more. Not a bribe, just a thought for me so I can stop wavering over it.

Again, thank you for reading and thank you for helping me. More chapters are coming.

This is TFFanatic rolling out and rising up!


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